The Ministry of Culture has refused to classify as protected a small private home constructed by the architect in 1922, which is supposed to be modified with a new addition. A decision which reveals a myopia concerning the architectural patrimony of the early 20th century, both private and public. The little private home constructed by Hector Guimard at 3, square Jasmin, in the 16th arrondissment of Paris, is in the process of being disfigured (as reported in Le Monde on December 24, 2002). "A building permit . . . has been granted . . . on August 2, 2002, for the addition of an extra floor to this private home of ground floor plus two stories, with reconstruction of the floor and modification to the exterior, the urban planning division of the Paris municipal government confirms. Furthermore, a demolition permit . . . authorizing partial demolition of the roof, vertical vents, air shaft vent covers, and parts of floors and walls was granted . . . on August 5, 2002." This plan is presently being carried out to the letter.

The building at 3, square Jasmin, it was decided by the responsible officials, should not be protected because its roof had already been altered, without a proper permit, in 1989. It is important to realize that this is not a matter of weak historical preservation laws in France. If anyone in the government had made the call the other way, there would be no work done at this address, end of story. However, this is not the first Guimard building to be treated this way. As M. de Roux writes, Guimard designed everything for his buildings and considered each one as a total work of art that he meticulously controlled.

However, as Jean-Pierre Lyonnet notes in his precious book Guimard perdu [Lost Guimard, not available in the United States, I think] (from Alternatives), "from 1888 to 1930, the date of his final contribution to architecture, Hector Guimard completed a total of 53 projects. Among these, three were for temporary exhibits and, for that reason, destined for destruction at will; two disappeared because of war; and twenty-one for various reasons, by chance or purely for profit." That's how the famous Castel Henriette (1899, enlarged in 1903) in Sèvres, one of the architect's quintessential works, was razed in 1969. André Malraux [Minister of Culture in the 1960s], who had just protected, with great difficulty, Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye in 1965, did not understand the building's value and did not restrain the bulldozers.

The same year saw the disappearance of the Guimardière (1930), the architect's country house in Vaucresson and his final work, constructed from Eternit cement pipes, which served both structural and decorative functions. The Hôtel Nozal (1902–1905), on the Rue du Ranelagh (Paris, 16th arrondissement), suffered the same fate at the beginning of the same decade. The Hôtel Nicolle and Hôtel Roy in Auteuil, the Nozal warehouses in Saint-Denis, the studio in the Avenue Perrichont (Paris, 16th arrondissement) were sacrificed. In 1949, Adeline Guimard, Hector's widow, offered to the French government their private home at 122, Avenue Mozart (Paris, 16th arrondissement). The refusal came immediately, and all the furniture, unique pieces designed by the architect, were sold off. Many of them ended up in American collections.

As you can see, it's quite difficult merely to find images of these lost buildings. In the hope of preserving what's left of Guimard's work from meeting the same fate, author Jean-Pierre Lyonnet and others have formed a group called Le Cercle Guimard. Let us hope that their voice is heard and heeded.